Welcome to Noir Falcons

 Please note that this blog post discusses a book that was written nearly a century ago and a movie that came out in the 40s. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of The Maltese Falcon, you have been warned.

I recently picked up a used copy of The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. The same Dashiell Hammett who wrote The Thin Man which was an early movie mystery series that had its own fandom.

I could continue on with this tangent, as I am also a fan of the Thin Man movies and book. However, I am meant to be writing about The Maltese Falcon - famous on its own as the pinnacle of noir stories - which came out a few years earlier.

The Maltese Falcon was written in serialized form between 1929 and 1930. It was published as a book in 1930 - just as the Great Depression was kicking into high gear. The movie came out roughly a decade later, in the midst of World War II. Though it doesn’t seem like a long time, the US was a very culturally different place in those short ten years.

Between 1930 and 1941, the United States rebounded from an economic disaster, ended prohibition with the 21st Amendment, entered the Second World War, transitioned from silent films to “talkies”, and implemented the Hayes Code (I promise the last one is relevant). 

My copy of the book seemed to have been modified a bit to better align the narrative with the movie’s timeline. Spade makes a few references to cases in the 1930s that shouldn’t be in the text if it was formally published in 1930. Thus, I don’t know how many other changes may have been made to my copy of the text. 

However, if my copy of the book only has the date changes, then the 1941 movie adaptation is incredibly good (with a few difference that would never get past the censors).

My introduction to The Maltese Falcon and the noir genre in general was through parodies. “Rugrats”, “Animaniacs”, and “Tiny Toons” all had an episode dedicated to noir. The “Rugrats” episode “Radio Daze” even has a “dingus” like the falcon called The Malties Woodchuck (so called because it was hiding malted milk balls). Additionally, “Star Trek: The Next Generation” had a few episodes where Captain Picard role-played as a Detective on the holodeck.

Additionally, film noir heavily influenced the characters Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit) and Helga Sinclair (Atlantis). Those two characters helped shape my understanding of what a “femme fetales” was. 

All of these media influences shaped my understanding of film noir and (more importantly for this blog post) The Maltese Falcon. Did my expectations match my experience?

Kind of…

There was plenty of mystery and fast talking, shady characters. Sam Spade is certainly a man’s man of a detective, but he’s also a cad - stringing along his partner’s widow is only the tip of the iceberg. Gutman is the greedy leader of the thieves, but he’s also not as brilliant or violent as I expected. The gunman Wilmer Cook actually has a personality in the book and movie instead of being a nameless, faceless entity. Joel Cairo’s character I mostly new from stills and promotion for the movie. 

But it’s Brigid O’Shaughnessy’s character that surprised me most. She may be smart and devious, but she’s nowhere near as confident as the femme fetales I’d become used to. Honestly, I find her a bit pathetic - likely an act to get Sam on her side, but even her confession and reactions at the end aren’t very strong. She kind of just stands there, teary eyed and trembling as Sam explains how he know she set him up. It’s not the reaction Jessica or Helga would have, that’s for sure.

Despite these breaks in expectations, I do see why The Maltese Falcon is the iconic book and movie that it is and its influence on the noir genre. It’s a good story about very flawed, despicable people (including Sam Spade). Humphrey Bogart bring likability to Sam Spade, but he isn’t a good guy - not in the slightest. 

Honestly, all of the actors in the movie version make the characters a lot more likable than their book counterparts. 

Additionally, there are changes from the book to the movie adaptation. Some scenes are shorten or skipped entirely. A few characters don’t make an appearance at all such as Spade’s lawyer and Gutman’s daughter. There are also a few things that had to either be implied or cut out entirely due to the Hayes Code (I said it would come back).

In the book, there are a few scenes describing naked or semi naked women. At one point Spade forces O’Shaughnessy strip in a bathroom to see if she had palmed $1000 from him. In another short (and stomach turning) scene has Spade finding Gutman’s daughter drugged out of her mind with only a robe on in a hotel room. The Hayes Code wouldn’t have allowed any of that in an American cinema.

And though it’s only hinted at though 40s cinema language, Spade does indeed have sex with O’Shaughnessy in the book. The scene picks up while he’s getting dressed, but it’s obvious they hooked up.

Finally, I need to talk about the other coding in the movie. The Queer Coding.

In the movie, Peter Lorre expertly plays the queer coded character Joel Cairo. In the book, there is no coding. Joel Cairo is called out for being gay right from his introduction. It’s not a flattering portrayal of gay people - Spade is quite awful to Cairo even before he knows he’s a villain. However, it is openly stated.

Additionally, it’s heavily implied that Cairo is in a relationship with the gunman Wilmer Cook. Something that isn’t present at all in the movie.

We can thank the Hayes Code for that omission as well.  This wouldn’t be the first or last time that queer characters would be smoothed out for cinema - this is why we have the term Queer Coding. Nor is it the first or last time that queer characters are used as villains in a story. The Hayes Code helped solidify these tropes and prevented growth for LGBTQIA+ characters in film for nearly all the 20th century.

Overall, I understand the appeal and importance of The Maltese Falcon to American cinema, pop culture, and genre. It helped to establish tropes and characters that are still easily recognizable today. I also find it dated. 

The book is easy to read and follow. The characters leave a lot to be desired, but they are fully realized, complex characters.

It’s a story to be appreciated for its place and time in American culture. It certainly established Bogart as a leading man.

Could it be updated for modern audiences? No idea. There are apparently really bad adaptations (including a romantic comedy in 1935) and a very close 1931 adaptation that included scenes that couldn’t be shown at all to audiences (the strip search I mentioned above). There was also a parody sequel released in the 70s.

And even if it could be adapted for a modern audience, would we want it to be?

I don’t think I would.

Let me know in the comments what your favorite noir (played straight or parody) is. Who Framed Roger Rabbit is probably mine.

If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you like hearing from me.

Until next week.